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UNITED STATES OF AMEMCA | 



THE MIRROR OF A MIND 



POEM 



ALGERNON SYDNEY LOGAN. 



Give me the glass and therein will I read. " 

King Richard II. 









NEW YORK 

PUBLISHED FOR THE AUTHOR BY 
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 

1875 






Copyright 
ALGERNON SYDNEY LOGAN, 

1S7S. 



THE MIRROR OF A MIND. 



CANTO FIRST. 



I. 



T3 RIGHT clouds which are the spirits of 
^-^ the skies ! 

Even now, as ever, while ye soar above, 
On you the dying day has fixed his eyes 
With a last look of sympathy and love, — 
Fired by that gleam which through all time 

hath strove 
To light the soul from out its darkened 

isle ; — 



4 The Mirror of a Mind. 

Ye are so pure, so heavenly, that ye move 
Like angels answering back day's fading 

smile, 
Though cold corporeal Earth is bathed in 

night the while. 



II. 



A melancholy splendor lights the peaks 

Of the wind-wafted mountains, where they 

rise, 
A jagged chain which the horizon streaks; 
Rearing a barrier which our sight defies ; 
Floating above the Infinite which lies 
Beyond the land of tribute to the mind. 
This glare of dissolution would disguise 
Day's death with lurid lustre, yet we find 



The Mirror of a Mind. 5 

Each swift-receding ray grows less and less 
defined. 



III. 



Dim misty nothings on the horizon's verge, 
With weird significance rise one by one 
From the abode of shades ; and as they 

merge 
Like living letters range themselves upon 
The arras of the world, w^here now is shown 
The " Mene, Mene," of a monarch's might. 
The last faint glimmer lingering all alone, 
Slips like to water from the grasp of sight — 
Lost like the foam in ocean ; — Gray rolls on 

the night ! 



The Mirror of a Mind. 



IV. 



With feeble glimmer, through the deepening 

blue, 
The greater stars come slowly one by one ; 
The lesser follow, though at first but few. 
Yet brightening as new numbers still are 

shown ; 
Feeding upon the darkness which has grown 
Till all around is lost, save objects near ; 
And these recede till — now I am alone 
With the wide heavens, sparkling, flashing, 

clear — 
One world hath faded that a thousand may 

appear ! 



The Mirror of a Mind. 7 

V. 

Ye stars, eternal children of the night ! 
Pale with a thousand vigils ! envious Time 
Hath passed beneath you in his withering 

flight, V 
Nor dared the awful infinites to climb 
From whence with undimmed eyes and mien 

sublime, 
For ages ye have watched man bowing down 
Beneath his load of misery and crime ; 
Yet drinking with his eyes your radiance 

thrown, 
To break his night of life, nor leave him 

Sorrow' s own. 

VI. 

Guardians and friends of man ! whose unseen 
hands 



8 The Mirror of a Mind. 

Grasp the dim chains which check the mad 

career 
Of this our world, which through the gHt- 

tering bands 
Of stars would rush to chaos, till the clear 
Light of the sun would fade and disappear 
Across the airy desert : — not so now ; 
For Earth must carry each succeeding year, 
Dense with its fruits, and while ye gaze 

below, 
Move on with measured pace, nor ever swift 

nor slow. 

VII. 

Your very names are histories, and ye hold 
The brightest deeds of the past world on 
high, 



The Mirror of a Mind. 9 

Which else were buried now all still and 

cold, 
Within that grave which doth forever lie, 
Waiting the present hour that passes by. 
Following Time's steps and drinking in his 

waste ; 
Ye have taught man to lisp Eternity. 
Oh, wildly flashing stars! the light ye cast 
Guides my mind backward, for ye are the 

endless Past ! 



VIII. 

And men do call thee dead, thou mighty 

Past! 
Thou father of our thoughts ! whence man 

derives 



lo The Mirror of a Mind. 

All that he knows — Let Time outstrip the 

blast ! 
He takes from others, to thee only gives ; 
Thou art the giant charioteer, who drives 
The magic car of the o'erpassing hour. 
Born at thy mandate, and which only lives 
To be thy food : Immortal changeless Power ! 
Thou art the light of life, brightest when 

tempests lower. 



IX. 



From darkness into darkness glides the hour, 
Inflicting change, yet changing 'neath the 

view — 
Apparelled from the mind — a magic power — 
A ghost to me, a harlequin to you — 



The Mirror of a Mind. ii 

A medium whose capricious falseness through 
Must come our light — a prism colorless, 
Yet shedding on each side a different hue ; 
Thus is the mind bewildered, nor can guess 
Whether grief, joy, be shades, or that which 
they profess. 



X. 



Joy is the very shadow of a smile, 
Sorrow the mere reflection of a frown, — 
Yet these themselves are shadows, and beguile 
The heart to deem the world without its own. 
He who would mine the silver that is thrown 
Forever by the moon upon the sea, — 
Floating upon a single spot alone, 
Yet drifting by your side eternally— 



12 The Mirror of a Mind. 

He only from such dreams would forge 
reality. 



XI. 



From hoary infancy to hoary age, 
From trembling growth to tottering decay, 
From the mere blank to the o'erwritten page. 
From the green wood to ashes cold and 

gi*ay, 
From things unknown to things long past 

away, 
How small the span, how fleeting is the fire, 
How brief the gleam that falls upon our clay. 
How short the hour in which the heart's 

wild lyre 
Will vibrate to the winds of change, love 

hope, desire. 



The Mirror of a Mind, 13 



XII. 



Why wander bone-strewed fields to meditate 

On human mutability ? why rove 

O'er sites of cities now depopulate, 

To feel how all things toward Destruction 

move ? 
Why muse on wormy, mould-filled skulls to 

prove 
How beauty, hope, joy, life, speed fast 

away ? 
An eye averted which did beam with love, 
A single frown — a smile but yesterday — 
More than all empires dead, speak change, 

decline, decay. 



14 The Mirror of a Mind. 



XIII. 

Towards love's sun doth bliss, that butterfly, 
Soar on his fragile wing, nor knows the 

day 
Which viewed his birth shall see his bright 

plumes lie 
Dim in the dust ; a single snow-flake may 
Hurl him forever from his joyous way ; 
A single breath from out the northern 

heaven 
Will quench with stormy clouds the autum- 
nal ray ; 
And in an instant he is madly driven 
Down on some chilly stream, with pinions 
wrenched and riven. 



The Mirror of a Mind. 15 



XIV. 

When Exultation bursts upon the soul, 
Crushing the barriers reared by years and 
pride ; 

When the hp curls— eye flashes; when Con- 
trol 

Reels backward tott'ring, and the long de- 
nied 

And boastful tongue pours forth what we 
would hide ; 

When to thy fellow-man thy heart grows 
warm, 

Grasp thy mind's tiller, trust not to the tide ! 

Moments of perfect bliss e'er bode us harm— 

The gentle sea gull's coming tells the wildest 
storm. 



1 6 The Mirror of a Mind, 



XV. 



The boisterous sound and sweep of my own 

lyre 
Have caught me up and carried me away, 
Borne on the breath of an unquenched 

desire 
To slake the thirst for thought, and to 

allay 
Our aspirations for a purer ray 
Than that which we inherit : but my song 
Bids me return to whence my thoughts did 

stray — 
Years which came singly, but now form one 

throng — 
That atom of the Past which doth to me 

belong. 



The Mirror of a Mind. 17 

XVI. 

I gaze into the camera of years, 
And there behold a scene of sleepless pain — 
Hopes ever walking hand in hand with fears, 
xAmbition scourging the reluctant brain. 
Trying to strengthen it with stripes in vain, 
Cursing the boy because not yet the man. 
And blighting his best efforts with disdain ; 
These tortured not by chance, but with a 

plan, 
And dimmed the deep-set spark which they 

would over-fan. 

XVII. 

But these came later, and still torture now ; 



My backward glances pass them, wanderin 

2 



1 8 The Mirror of a Mind. 

To meet one distant spot where lives a glow; 
As when around our pathway shadows cling, 
Far as the eye can reach the sunbeams fling 
Their lustre o'er some valley green and 

smooth. 
Sweet hour that drinks and tastes not of the 

spring ! 
Pure hour that hears and doubts not of the 

truth ! 
Fair hour of shapeless bliss, blest time of 

earliest youth ! 

XVIII. 

Joy is the whetstone of the scythe of Time — 
How early must our childhood wake to pain ! 
How soon must we be taught that thought is 
crime ! 



The Mirror of a Mind. 19 

And strive with helpless hands, too oft in 

vain, 
To file in secret the oppressive chain. 
Which other minds upon our reason throw ; 
Seeking to prove with eager, nerveless brain, 
That what is said need not, for all, be so — 
Oh, this agony ! behold the dawn of woe ! 



XIX. 

But childhood waned, and as I older grew, 
My glance was upward, though I knew not 

why ; 
Above me Happiness the martlet flew ; 
I marked her pathway through the stormy 

sky. 
Enraptured with her pinions' gorgeous dye ; 



20 The Mirroi'' of a Mind. 

And oft she faded from my straining sight, 
Oft in her wavering course swept swiftly 

nigh— 
I knew not she was footless, and her flight 
Eternal, and I deemed she might, she could 

alight ! 



XX. 



Power, Envy, Hatred, sent their shadowy 

brood — 
Words, gestures, looks, the half indifferent air, 
Oppression unavowed yet understood. 
Assent equivocal, and praise most rare. 
The hint that all men all your talents share, 
The boundless praise of others your own 

knoll : 



The Mirror of a Mind. 21 

Like phantom birds with brazen beaks, these 

tear 
The stoutest heart, and check the boldest 

soul. 
And with their poisoned wings blot out the 

distant goal. 



XXI. 



The marbles of the mind around me lie. 
Opinions, both my own and others, piled 
Confusedly in heaps ; from these I try 
A stately and consistent domx to build — 
A palace of the brain ; but feverish, wild, 
To work with me my heart I cannot tame. 
To fruitless toil it will not be beguiled : — 



2 2 The Mirror of a Mind. 

Thought eats away the mind which has no 

aim — 
A hidden agony, a pain without a name. 



XXII. 

'Tis night ; a youth is from his window 
leaning ; 

The moon and stars together slowly rise ; 

The scene upon his face prints not its mean- 
ing— 

The passing clouds, the moonlit, starry skies 

He sees not, though reflected in his eyes ; 

His ear receives, not hears the vesper 
chant : 

For he has found this truth which few^ can 
prize — 



The Mirror of a Mind. 23 



That all substantial things for which men 

pant, 
Objects of sense, are air — our thoughts are 

adamant. 



XXIII. 

From my own past I gladly turn away ; 
Our life begins long after birth, and ends 
Too often ere we die, and I delay 
To seize each coming Present as it tends 
To form what I shall be, and ever bends 
The bow, and fits the arrow which belong 
Unto the morrow. Round me there extends 
A w^orld of beauty which demands my song — 
Tints, shadows, colors, rays, commingling in 
one throng. 



24 The Mirror of a Mind. 



XXIV. 

For now sad Autumn with his plaintive flute 
Upon the hill-tops mournful ditties plays ; 
Tears doth he shed which stain his russet 

suit, 
Weeping the waste which yet he never 

stays, — 
Save when at times his march he still 

delays 
And toward the parted summer turns him 

round. 
With melancholy smile and longing gaze ; 
With red and yellow leaves his head is 

crowned. 
And ever as he walks some rustle to the 

ground. 



The Mirror of a Mind. 25 



XXV. 

The time exalts the spirit while it grieves — 
Birth and decay in beauty ever vie — 
The sunless sunlight of the yellow leaves 
Lives everywhere, and mocks the cloudy sky ; 
Shedding o'er all the world a golden dye — 
The light of Desolation ; far and near, 
As setting suns defy mortality. 
On wood, and glen, and hill-side doth appear 
This smile amidst despair — bright sunset of 
the year. 

XXVI. 

The sunset of the year ! behold, the trees 
Like evening clouds grow brighter as we 
gaze ! 



26 The Mirror of a Mind. 

Lit by an orb we see not ; by degrees 
Melting into a universal blaze ; 
Filling the upward eye with wild amaze, 
Which views these glories of the closing 

day — 
A shattered and strewed rainbow lines the 

ways — 
Till Autumn's later evening steals their ray, 
Leaving them spiritless, unlighted, cold and 

gray. 



XXVII. 

Red trees like torches light the Autumn's 

bier, 
Their leaves like sparks fall glowing to the 

ground ; 



The Mirror of a Mind. 27 

The golden gleam that earlier did appear 
Hath passed away, and sad each sight and 

sound ; 
Dead leaves in heaps lie stiffening all around ; 
Mists rise where'er we gaze with motion 

slow ; 
While the faint warble of the distant hound 
Lingers upon the air with billowy flow, 
Soft, sweet, yet ominous — unfeeling, though 

so low. 



XXVIII. 

And as the woodland paths we slowly tread, 
A solitary leaf will often stray, 
Like to a ghost, from out the piles of dead. 
And roll before, as if to point the way 



28 The Mirror of a Mind, 

Which we must follow — even to decay ; 

But glance above, and there behold the buds 

Of the next year — these are the unborn 

May, 
Which lives unnoticed in the weeping woods, 
And smiles at Winter's might, — his whirlwinds, 

snows and floods ! 



XXIX. 

All that through life we struggle to repress. 

All that unites us to the vile and low, 

All that would mock the soul and make it 

less, — 
These are Death's spoils — he never aims a 

blow 
At that which most we cherish ; but the prow 



The Mirror of a Mind, 29 

Sees not the silvery wash that leaves the 

keel ; 
The only immortality we know, 
We by a kind of phantom memory feel — 
Gaze back on days unborn, and past the 

future steal. 



XXX. 

There is a faint perception in the mind. 
An unsubstantial goad which bids us climb ; 
Sometimes it seems a wish almost defined, 
Again a memory blurred by passing Time, 
Anon a half-read prophecy sublime ; 
And now it lights our living Hope of fame, 
Now seems the dim remembrance of a 
crime, 



30 The Mirror of a Mind. 

Which strikes us ere we know from whence 

it came, 
And wakes a heavy throb, half sorrow and 

half shame. 



XXXI. 

Dim as the orb that joins the horned moon, 
Or meteors' trains which vanish in the sky ; 
Faint as the chimes of distant bells which 

swoon 
Upon the ear, or when they wearily 
Toil up against the blast, though flung from 

nigh. 
And scarce may reach us, breathless, feeble, 

slow ; 
As ineffective as the sunset's dye 



The Mirror of a Mind. 31 

Tinting the chilly foam, or frost on snow, 
Or rain upon the ocean, sinking in its flow ; 



XXXII. 

Dim as the phantoms of our future years, 
That pass before sad childhood's dreamy eye, 
This spirit of the mind, as it appears 
Troubling the w^aters — but why multiply 
My images to paint the wind, or try 
By ghosts to show a something dimmer still — 
So thin that Time, Death, pass it scathe- 
less by — 
A might which makes the eye to flash and 

fill— 
The unessential shade, whom Sorrow cannot 
kill. 



32 The Mirror of a Mind. 



XXXIII. 

All feel in youth this restlessness within, 
This pain which doth our life and aims im- 
peach ; 
We strive to fight the world in armour 

thin- 
Grasp at a fruit beyond our mortal reach, 
Miss it, and say it is not ; and then teach 
That life is vain, and naught on earth is 

warm. 
Concealing wounds that know nor balm nor 

leech ; 
But yet in some this spirit takes a form, 
And makes them stem the stream, and battle 
with the storm. 



The Mirror of a Mind. 33 



XXXIV. 

Life's waves oft whelm our Hope, but 

ebbing soon, 
Behold, it gleams again in flickering lines ! 
Like the blurred image of the ocean 

moon 
In the wet sands, which tremulously shines. 
And with a buried lustre : The heart 

pines 
To flee from those who live chained to the 

car 

Of trifles ; but Ambition's blast inclines 

To waste at length the soul it bears afar — 

The soul, that rising spark, that fain would 

be a star. 

3 



34 The Mirroi^ of a Mind. 



XXXV. 

The vastest forms which rise within the 

soul, 
The mightiest children of the laboring mind, 
Can never reach Expression's earthly goal ; 
But wander restless, shadowy, undefined, 
Even beneath our gaze to melt inclined : 
Like Earth's gigantic, lonely shade are they ! 
Which even on the moon no rest may find. 
But from her breast is rudely torn away, 
Left buoyless in space, the Impalpable's dim 

prey. 

XXXVI. 

To follow these on leaden winofs ; to hem 
Our world-worn mantle with a cloth of gold ; 



The Mirror of a Mind, 35 

To graft the ruddy rose upon a stem 
Now withering as it stands ; or to unfold 
The fallen leaf, and from its shape, though 

cold, 
Its fading color and its venous frame. 
Recall that beauty sinking fast to mould ; 
To spur" the mind which grows each day 

more tame — 
Behold the noblest life, the loftiest human 

aim ! 



XXXVII. 

Vain as the Tyrian cloak which the pale 

cloud 
Wraps round his wasting form at even — vain 
As castles in the fiery coals, whose proud 



36 The Mirror of a Mind. 

Towers dissolve into an ashy rain — 
Vain as the memory of a smile when pain 
Tortures the writhing lip, this constant war 
'Twixt soul and sense, this torture of the 

brain, 
This effort to outstrip the thing we are, 
Embodied in a sigh when gazing on a star. 



XXXVIII. 

Yet pity him who hath no war within — 
'Tis vain to call our sleep philosophy ! 
The elemental jar, the noiseless din. 
This is the true, the only alchemy ; 
Which from the base alloys that men may 

see 
Spread far and near fuses the virgin gold : 



The Mirror of a Mind. 37 

Yet oft the strain will shatter suddenly 
The crucible which would this fusion hold ; 
And thus the o'er-labored mind breaks long 
ere it be old. 



XXXIX. 

I fain would be my soul, which I am not — 
Which no man is — and yet which all should 

be ; 
But still 'tis comfort in our mortal lot, 
To set our soul before us, and to see 
Its beauties shine in wild sublimity ; 
Till admiration deepens into love, 
And love becomes absorption, and we flee 
Far from the trifling crowd, to dwell 

above, 



38 The Mirror of a Mind. 

Though still our living shade niongst soul- 
less men may move. 



XL. 

And if my spirit to this impulse yields ; 
'Tis humbly, not elated, nor confused; 
For I gazed long upon the snowy fields 
Which I must tread, before my feet were 

loosed 
From out their native valley; and I mused 
On icy winds, or e'er I sought to climb : 
The penalty of pain is not refused — 
He who would leave the sunny vale of 

time, 
Takes for warm human joys the coldly fair 

Sublime. 



The Mirror of a Mind. 39 



XLI. 

I write that they who follow me may say, 
Not, "this he wrote',' but "this indeed he 

was^' 
" This is the life his soul lived day by 

day." 
Men's best thoughts come unmarshalled, with- 
out class ; 
And I but ope the door for mine to pass 
From my own mind into the open air. 
To my own being I but hold a glass. 
Which shows each changing look, or dark, 

or fair — 
This Mirror paints the new, yet holds the 
old still there. 



40 The Mirror of a Mind, 



XLII. 

Noteless I sing— What life was ever planned ? 
What thought e'er sent a herald far before ? 
Who would hold water in an iron band? 
In one straight line do streamlets ever pour 
From their slight spring down to the ocean's 

shore ? 
Why from a thousand flowers round me 

massed 
In wildest beauty choose but three or four? 
Or from the marble features of the Past 
Hand to posterity a rigid death-like cast? 

XLIII. 

Scenes with their thoughts, thoughts with 
their vanished scenes — 



The Mirror of a Mind. 41 

All that within me has been most concealed 
From blight and mildew — all that living 

means — 
What to my real self has most appealed, — 
These I would garner here into one yield, 
The humble harvest of my human clay ; 
But Time before us mows in our own field, 
And what Time cuts, Oblivion stacks away. 
Reaping what men have sown and tended 

night and day. 



XLIV. 

My heart is throbbing with a great design — 
To catch the spirit of a journeying mind, 
And that my own ; that where I hope or pine, 
Struggle, enjoy, or fondly gaze behind. 



42 The Miri^or of a Mind. 

Another, following, too, may pause and find 
Fresh food for feeling : here I seek to show 
Sculptures of thoughts and feelings ne'er 

defined ; 
Such hopes, like moonlight sparkles upon snow, 
Flash with a light from heaven, yet still 

remain below. 



XLV. 

Yet shall the spirit cease to seek for fame. 
When flame shall point to earth instead of 

heaven. 
Joys shall bedeck a life without an aim 
When on the restless clouds by whirlwinds 

driven, 
Eternal flowers bloom : vet there are Q-iven 



The Mwror of a Mind. 43 

No words to paint that which the soul still 

strives 
To seize and render palpable ; but even 
He who in his own being deeply dives, 
Oft finds no beauty there — yet still believes 

it lives. 



XLVI. 

Pure Presence ! that dost have thy daily 

haunt 
Within the glitt'ring fleecy Alpine snow ; 
Whose radiant smile comes floating down 

aslant 
From out the Autumn sunset's hazy glow ; 
Thou spirit of ideal beauty! slow 
To penetrate the heart — why hast thou made 



44 The Mirror of a Mind. 

No fixed abode in mortal bosom, though 
Thy form is ever seen by rock and glade? 
Thou art the ghost of Joy, that flittest but 
to fade. 



XLVII. 

The night walks forth, and through the 

mists of heaven 
Swino:s her dim lantern which we call the 

moon ; 
While racing clouds around the link are 

driven, 
Through the white masses swift she makes 

it scoon ; 
But holds it motionless to gaze, as soon 
As the dank vapors pass : the air is chill , 



The Mirror of a Mind. 45 

The cricket chirps, then sinks into a swoon — 
Perchance his last ; the cedars dark and 

still, 
Untiring sentinels ! seem outposts on the 

hill. 



XLVIII. 

The white frost gleams around, the phantom 

snow, 
Which lives but as the breath when blown 

on glass — 
Cold child of morning, dying in the glow 
Of the high sun! for often as ye pass, 
Ye see him cowering low where the crisp'd 

grass — 
Is shadowed by some object — all is gone 



46 The Mirror of a Mind. 

That marked him for a king — his realm 

which was 
The world, is shrunk into this spot alone — 
Until the sun creeps round, — and the pale 

sprite is flown. 



XLIX. 

The thin-armed and long-fingered naked trees, 
Like weird anatomies start on the sight; 
They come, we know not whence, by twos 

and threes, 
And seem the magic of a single night. 
Why do they strip 'gainst Winter's icy might, 
The cloaks they wore when June was all too 

warm ? 
They do but doff their mantles for the fight! 



The Mirror of a Mind. 47 

Like ships they furl their sails before the 

storm, 
Which whistles madly by, but cannot do 

them harm. 



The dreamy days of silence and of haze. 
Making death dear to the enraptured mind, 
Have passed away, and now where'er we 

gaze 
The distances are rigid and defined ; 
Wind-spouts, like water-spouts, become en- 
twined 
With the thick dust, and bear it to the sky; 
November doth the maniac winds unbind, 
Who with transparent fingers twirl on high 



48 The Mirror of a Mind. 

The bare, bleak, rugged limbs, — so white, so 
cold, so dry. 



LI. 



Times are there when the senses fail and 
sink, 

And when Thought's walls around contract- 
ing seem 

Till our world narrows to a cell ; we 
shrink 

Into our altered selves; we know we dream. 

And strive to wake, yet cannot; not one 
gleam 

Of light our present, past, and future hold; 

All life seems vain, our toil we folly deem, 

Forgetting we have felt, and are not old — 



The Mirror of a Mind. 49 

Then rise within the mind these longings 
manifold : 



LII. 

Something to feel before the heart grows 

hard ; 
Something to think with which no doubting 

strives ; 
Something to sing ne'er sung by mortal 

bard ; 
Something to see which perfect fulness 

gives, 
And wakes no longing which the spirit 

rives, — 
As do the ocean, star, cloud, sunset, bird; 
Something to love incarnate, which yet lives 



50 The Mirror of a Mind. 

All undefiled by touch, or thought, or 

word — 
Mind cannot all suffice, still Nature will be 

heard. 



The Mirror of a Mind, 51 



CANTO SECOND. 



I. 



Within the drooping vine the wind doth 

hnger, 
Straying across its mystic warp and woof ; 
The rain keeps tapping with his fairy finger, 
In sad monotony upon the roof ; 
While the faint plash of a retreating hoof 
Flings back upon the ear its wat'ry sound. 
I gaze into the gloom from all aloof, 
Save the all-potent nothings spread around — 



52 The Mirror of a Mind. 

Silence and night, mere voids, which 3^et 
wake thoughts profound. 



II. 



Silence, who hath not felt thy thrilling 

power, 
When having spoken with a cheerful air 
To one we deemed near by at twilights 

hour, 
We found that thou alone wert waiting 

there ! 
Or listening for dead feet upon the stair — 
E'en though we know them buried, and the 

wreath 
Our hands have hung — 'tis thine to wake 

despair ; 



The Mirror of a Mmd, 53 

Life fears thee, for thy true home is be- 
neath — 

All know thee for the mate, companion, friend 
of Death. 



III. 



Night, thou art Death! inwoven with his 

might ; 
Darkness doth ever sit in dying eyes ; 
Lo! the dead planets are bereft of light — 
Their bloodless corpses stiffen in the skies — 
Rivers their veins, deeps seas their arteries. 
Solid and still ; there doth thy presence keep 
Death incorruptible : thy gentlest guise 
Folds us in tender arms, and soothes our 

sleep — 



54 The Mirr^or of a Mind. 

Then softly beckons Death upon our souls 
to creep. 



IV. 



But to the waking, velvet-footed Night 
Raises the veil which wraps all things by 

day, 
Save those which brush against us, and a 

li^ht 
Streams o'er the Past, — and truth is in its 

ray! 
A moment gone is full as far away 
As ages past — Time is a whole — years be 
But suppositions framed for human clay; 
Like lines of latitude upon the sea, 
All helpless to divide the waters rolling free. 



The Mirror of a Mind, 55 



V. 



We move between two mighty doors of 
glass, 

Future before us, clearer Past behind ; 

We pine, we long these narrow bounds to 
pass, 

Which though transparent all our move- 
ments bind ; 

The view before most pains the gazing 
mind. 

For that strange sadness which doth over- 
spread 

The world, we chiefly in the future find — 

Sighs breathed forth o'er a Future which is 
dead. 



The Mirror of a Mind, . 



Outweigh the fleeting tears which for the 
Past are shed. 



VI. 



To know the flood is still itself the ebb ; 
To see in the scarce budding rose deca}^ ; 
To feel that yarn is lacking for the web 
Of our ideal life ; to view the ray- 
Fade from one face while unborn shadows 

gray 
There fall ; to meet an unembodied woe ; 
To see our soul o'er-tftired in our clay — 
Such is the Future ! felt by us e'en now, 
As the pale victim feels the yet ungiven 

blow. 



The Mirror of a Mind, 57 



VII. 

The waters of the shadowy fount of Time 

Flow silently and softly glide away; 

A sphynx's head it is which none may 

climb, 
Darkness within which never felt a ray; 
We only see the tingeless current play, 
Nor e'er may know how much remaineth 

there. 
Whole civilizations of man's monstrous day 
Are but the hours; whose clock upon the 

air 
Flings forth its clangless strokes, which all to 

count despair. 



58 The Mirror of a Mind. 



VIII. 

Its motion Is so slow, and our slight time 
Of watching is so short, we cannot see 
The fated hand the enormous dial climb 
And point the hour; and thus men dif- 
ferently 
Compute the point man stands on — none 

agree ; 
Some see him young, some bowed with 

sinking age ; 
And while they fight the hand moves con- 
stantly ; 
Each calls as witness History's yellow page, 
Which cheats philosophy, and mocks the 
groping sage. 



The Mirror of a Mind, 59 



IX. 



The hour is late, yet ere I take my rest 
Let us look forth upon the earth and sky ; 
The cold rain ceases — flowers it once had 

blessed — 
It wets their bier, yet mocked their agony; 
Great furling clouds on unseen masts go by; 
A rainbow which the wayward moon hath 

wrought. 
Like to a spirit's smile gleams forth on 

high- 
Ghost of a ghost, translucent aeronaut. 
Beauty more beautiful, an unimprisoned 

thought ! 



6o The Mirror of a Mind, 



X. 



Deep the clear azure of the midnight sky, 
Dark even to blackness, fathomless and blind 
As seas that never heard the leadsman's cry; 
The full meridian moon the trees behind, 
Ringless and rayless, white, cold, hard, de- 
fined, 
Blanches the meadows glistening bleak and 

bare, 
Like fields of snow; a thin ethereal wind 
Hastens the moon-lit clouds, so ghostly 

fair — 
White, glittering, pinnacled, the icebergs of 
the air! 



The Mirror of a Mind, 6i 



XL 



There is a spot where oft my steps are bent, 
Where giant rocks to press the earth are 

seen 
With the deep, heavy, lost abandonment 
Of an eternal slumber; and they lean, 
And seem as nodding o'er the flickering 

sheen 
Of a slight rill, which hastens on below 
'Twixt mossy stones ; while many an ever- 
green 
Stretches his muffled arms with movements 

slow, 
As if to stay the stream, and hush its 
boisterous flow. 



62 The Mirror of a Mind. 



XII. 

Stern hemlocks up the dark and craggy 

steep 
Stand balanced on the rocks, and feeding 

seem 
Upon the soHd stone ; while slowly creep 
Pale sunbeams through their tops, and softly 

dream 
Far o'er the polished laurel leaves, and 

gleam 
Like moonlight on the waters. Seasons 

pass. 
And leave no foot-prints on the rocks and 

stream 
In this self-centred vale; a mind it has 



The Mirror of a Mind, 63 



Which takes no colors from the world's 
surrounding mass. 



XIII. 

When in her em'rald cloak fair Spring 

appears, 
Kindling a world to love with soft young 

eyes, 
All timidly this spot alone she nears — 
The firs and laurels changing not their dyes, 
Wave back a wintry answer; Autumn flies, 
Shouting of changes — -still are they unmoved; 
The ice sprite wanders by the stream, and 

tries 
To bridge the waters, and, though vain 'tis 

proved, 



64 The Mirror of a Mind. 

Plants piers along the banks fantastically 
grooved. 

XIV. 

Here thoughts ideal, free, untinted, clear. 
Live ever in the shade, and ere my feet 
Have reached the glen, my steps they seem 

to hear. 
And from the green in shadowy guise to 

greet 
My coming to this wild and feared retreat ; 
For some do say a sprite of darksome mood 
Doth haunt the spot, whom many dread to 

meet, — 
Yet spirit there is none within the wood, 
Save the poor tortured shade, the ghost of 

Solitude. 



The Mirror of a Mind. 65 



XV. 



Eleven thousand years must slowly pass, 
And a new star illumes the northern pole ! 
And shall not Nature then be as she was 
Ere man began her glories to control? 
Where then the toil-worn artificial whole, 
Commerce and trade, stilts of mans petty 

pride ? 
Rivers 'twixt grassy banks may nobly roll, 
Where smoky cities now their meadows hide, 
And trout leap in the streams by factories 

deeply dyed. 



66 The Mirror of a Mind. 



XVI. 

Primeval forests lurk beneath the plough, 
To rise once more at Solitude's command, 
Pushed back, not conquered, as when strong 

winds blow 
With transient force the tides from off the 

land, — 
Soon to return and sweep across the sand, 
With greater violence the more •dela3Td : 
Silence and Loneliness are still at hand. 
Though vain our search by stream, and hill, 

and glade ; 
We deem them ever found, when lo ! 'tis 

but their shade. 



The Mirror of a Mind. 67 



XVII. 

I would not sing man's downfall, for the sake 
Of Feeling's glorious sun, whose disc im- 
mense. 
Broke to a million fragments, still must 

make 
In man's divided bosom dark and dense. 
Its scattered home — collectless, unintense : 
Yet shall these close extremes ne'er cease to be. 
Things of pure intellect and things of sense. 
Whose mien would make you deem they 

easily 
Could wear Orion's belt, or toast you with 
the sea ? 



68 The Mirror of a Mind. 



XVIII. 

Beholding man, as man around we see, 

We wonder Death will touch so mean a 

thing — 
That they who never saw reality, 
Who o'er pure Nature tawdry drapings fling, 
Shall e'er behold the universal king. 
The sole controller of life's hidden fire, — 
From the cupped flowers, the dimples of the 

Spring, 
To systems whom no weight of time can 

tire, 
Who yet beneath his frown pale, sicken, 

faint, expire. 



The Mirror of a Mind. 69 



XIX. 

Yet wonder not, for they are trodden down 
Like eyeless worms, that see not the quick 

stamp 
Which makes them earth again: Behold the 

town ! 
This populous waste, these airy nothings' 

lamp — 
Here flit the worldlings who the spirit damp. 
Their flesh bedizened but their soul in rags! 
With voices unimpelled by mind they cramp 
Too timid nature— these unsightly snags 
Stick on life's boiling stream, and curse it 

that it lao-s ! 



70 The Mii^ror of a Mind, 



XX. 

Who gazes through a single skyhght pane 
Deems all heaven darkened by the smallest 

cloud ; 
So they that bend beneath the world's cold 

chain, 
Crushed to the damp mould by their unseen 

load, 
Know of no sun save the faint ray bestowed 
Through their dim, distant loop hole — nay ; 

arise ! 
Rend ye your bonds, the universe endowed 
With flower-decked earth and star-emblazoned 

skies. 
Were for one free-born soul too small a 

Paradise ! 



The Mirror of a Mind. yi 



XXI. 

Perspective rules the country of the mind, 
Even as the outer world which meets the 

eye, 
Far mountains there look low and undefined, 
Though their gigantic summits pierce the 

sky ; 
And heaps of sand, so that they be but nigh, 
Poor handfuls at the mercy of all winds. 
Blot out the landscape, and seem far more 

high; 
And thus mere nearness ever cheats and 

blinds 
Him who doth gaze on life, and naught but 

trifles finds. 



72 The Mirror of a Mind, 



XXII. 

Yet there are minds which like to Alpine 

lakes, 
Reflect far-distant mountains ; for though 

they 
Must image back the green leaves of the 

brakes 
Which line the margin ; though a shadow 

stray 
Across their mirror; though the light oar's 

spray, 
Or darting fish, or swallow's wing, or stone 
Thrown by an idler their smooth surface 

fray. 



The Mirror of a Mind. 73 

Still far below those awful snows are shown, 
Which though they pass the clouds, the lake 
beholds alone. 



XXIII. 

As many weathers as a tombstone feels, 
Missing no change, day, evening, night, or 

dawn. 
So many impulses the mind conceals ; 
The youngest motive hath the greatest 

brawn ; 
One influence a thousand more will spawn, 
And all pull different ways, till hearts grow 

cold ; 
Their strength still lasting till our ow^n is 

gone : — 



74 The Mirror of a Mind. 

How can the world so many feelings hold? 
Who can resist them best? The timid, not 
the bold. 



XXIV. 

The timid ! they who dread their human 

clay — 
Who when the world's vast allied armies 

come, 
To burn their fertile fields, their souls to 

slay. 
Retreat, present no front, and save their 

home ; 
All others trust to a redoubt of foam : 
The timid ! they who guard their inward eye. 
Lest it by accident a moment roam 



The Mirror of a Mind. 75 

From where 'tis fixed upon their star on 

high— 
These slowly, humbly plod the pathway to 

the sky. 



XXV. 

The genie of the lamp which burns within 
Will never leave unanswered him who calls; 
But first bar out the world's unmeaning din, 
And in the starry and gem-lighted halls 
Of thy own mind, — in silence which appalls, 
Yet wakes thy better being,— there alone- 
While from thy eye a tear of rapture falls, 
And thy loose locks by midnight winds are 
blown, 



7.6 The Mirror of a Mind. 

Rub thou thy tahsman, and call its spirits 
down. 



XXVI. 

And when the genie comes, as come he will, 
Ask for far sight most distant Truth to see, 
Sitting upon her adamantine hill. 
Cloud-wrapped, unworshipped, voiceless; wea- 
rily 
Swaying a realmless sceptre, though she be 
True queen of earth, source of all beauty 

there : — 
Ask for a heart that will not ever flee 
From feelings' touch, and slowly melt in air ; 
Such first would cheat mankind, at last' 
bring dull despair. 



The Mirror of a Mind, 77 



XXVII. 

The lowliest flower still drinks the evening 

dew ; 
Upon the smallest twig the wind will play; ^ 
The faintest star-beam falls as far and true 
As the sun's glories in the glare of day; 
The lightest seed that on the blast can 

stray, 
Within its tiny breast a might doth wield,— 
A future lies entranced within its clay ; 
The dullest eye hath light, though ne'er 

revealed — 
The humblest heart a chord, how deep so 

e'er concealed. 



78 The Mirror of a Mind. 



XXVIII. 

But like a flute washed on a desert shore — 
A harp ^oHan buried 'neath the mould — 
A giftless shrine with a cemented door — 
The coin of an age now still and cold, 
Which none can value — or a story told 
To woods and streams, which lives upon the 

air, — 
But scattered, melted, lost — an echo rolled 
Far in the mountain, and still resting there — 
Like each, like all the heart, it answers not 

to prayer! 



The Mirror of a Mind. 79 



XXIX. 

For other hearts Hke mountains round us 

rise, 
Seemingly fitted to return all sound— 
We shout, but wake no echoes; or we prize 
One being, deeming we at length have 

found 
A mirror of ourselves, — our wish is crowned! 
We smile into the glass, and start to' find, 
When we have smiled our image darkly 

frowned : 
How hard at last the struggle to unwind 
Dead hopes, which like dead vines, Life's 

tree so closely bind. 



8o The Mirror of a Mind. 



XXX. 

Men seek to draw from man, e'en though 

they know 
Themselves insolvent, helpless to return; 
Seeds of the heart in others we would sow, 
Hoping for harvest, while the whirlwinds 

spurn 
Those cast on our own bosoms; still we 

turn 
On things which are not, yet should be our 

whole, 
Eyes dull, or which with other lustre burn : 
There is a shining vapor in the soul. 
Which could it be condensed, no more to 

heaven would roll. 



The Mirror of a Mind. 8i 



XXXI. 

Dark ocean's tides that chisel her bleak cliffs 
To sculptured forms of wild sublimity, 
Are ruffled, yet unaltered by the skiffs. 
Which play upon their bosom ; thus the 

high 
Surges which mould our nature still pass by 
The lovely forms upon their surface rife, 
Which to our deeper being e'er are nigh. 
There are no anchors in the barks of life, 
Or each fond breast would be a bay to end 

our strife. 



82 The Mirror of a Mind, 



XXXII. 

Winter, the aged huntsman, now appears, 
One who with time hath strengthened, not 

dechned ; 
His withered cheek the tint of vigor wears; 
He seeks for spoil with hard and bitter mind ; 
With barking winds before him and behind. 
Which beat each copse and thicket with keen 

breath — 
They bite at all things in their fury blind. 
And chase the clouds the chilly sky beneath — 
All that is left exposed they doom to speedy 

death. 



The Mirror of a Mind. 83 



XXXIII. 

winds have found voices, but the streams are 

dumb, 
Nor can they stir the snow-bird's thirst to 

slake ; 
The days have shrunk into themselves, all 

numb 
And shivering in their sleep— the nights 

awake ! 
The long transparent winter nights, which 

make 
The empire of the moon; and blazoning 

these 
The winter stars upon our vision break— 
Sirius, Procyon, Rigel, Betelguese, 



84 The Mirror of a Mind. 

Capella, Fomalhaut, flash through the glistening 
trees. 



XXXIV. 

I loved in childhood, and still love to climb 
Most dizzy rocks, and air-surrounded towers, 
Where, as it were, beyond the reach of 

Time, 
We lose a moment the dull weight of hours; 
Hills, streams, clouds, zephyrs reassert their 

powers ; 
The soul bursts forth, as breaks the narrow 

span 
Of daily view, and distance dim devours ; 
Our angel smiles as we the horizon scan, 



The Mirror of a Mind, 85 

And feel the world contains more Nature 
still than Man. 



XXXV. 

I love to sit and watch the setting sun 
Slow sinking down athwart the western 

wave, 
Ere yet the purple twilight hath begun 
To strew his violets o'er the dead day's 

grave ; 
While at my feet the rocks the ripples lave, 
Flinging their jets aloft in sparkling showers; 
And glowing sails like stars the ocean pave ; 
And memories long forgot of youthful hours, 
Make life's o'ertrodden path not wholly void 

of flowers. 



86 The Mirror of a Mind. 



XXXVI. 

But when the orb sinks nearer to the sea, 
The sunlit sails do one by one expire, 
Like stars at morn ; and gazing drearily, 
We feel that wildering heart-ache, that desire 
To gain the ideal realm to which aspire 
Our weary thoughts ; now from the gather- 
ing gloom 
Stalks Retrospect in sad 'and gray attire — 
Life's early flowers are gone, and in their 

room 
Behold long willow streamers waving o'er a 
tomb ! 



The Mirror of a Mind. 87 



XXXVII. 

Oh, Memory ! oh, Memory ! away ! 
With all thy thousand forms and colorings; 
Pale evening star of our declining day! 
Thine is the unseen hand that ever flings 
A mantle o'er the coffined Past, and wrings 
Dew from life's granite, and from seas of 

woe, 
Sounding their depths, a few shght pearlets 

strings : 
These are thy deeds, thy shapes, — but what 

art thou? 
Art thou impalpable ? I would thy essence 

know. 



The Mirror of a Mind. 



XXXVIII. 

Ay, ether's self indeed! but stern of mood; 
Thou art the spectre painter of the soul — 
Thy darkest pictures in strong light are 

stood, 
The fair in shadow; and to us the whole 
Forms a sad gallery, for the eyes will roll 
To fix on sketches which all beauties spoil ; 
And thus men strive these glances to control, 
Lest following eyes see all and mock their 

toil. 
Forgetting others' sight the shifting lights 

must foil. 



The Mirror of a Mind. 89 



XXXIX. 

I've loved to gaze upon the Alps, where 

sweeping, 
The winds their glittering grain forever sow; 
A thousand winters past there still are 

sleeping 
Upon each other's breasts in tiers of snow. 
My heart warmed to those summits, like the 

glow 
Which kissed their pale cold cheeks at close 

of day; 
Something in things thus still which gaze 

below, 
Strangers to motion which is but decay, 



90 The Mirror of a Mind, 

Speaks to what in ourselves would live 
beyond our clay. 



XL. 



A moment wait, ye thoughts in eager 

crowds ! 
The eternal rose which blooms but in the 

sky, 
Whose scattered petals are the ruddy clouds, 
Sheds o'er the world a universal dye, 
Surpassing speech ; all earth is heaven, and 

vie 
Hills, streams, trees, grasses, snow, each 

peeping stone, 
With the immortal ; Man's heart is his eye ! 



The Mirror of a Mind. 91 



What winter's eve was e'er so fair? — 'tis 

gone — 
Save the faint feeble gleam which in this 

page is shown. 



XLI. 

Oh ! that some cunning workman of the 

mind, 
Could frame a magic, viewless door, which 

they 
Who seek the paths of thought might close 

behind. 
And bar return: like feudal vassals gay 
Our better thoughts rush on ; but one delay 
Makes fewer helms and halberds round us 

gleam, 



92 The Mirror of a Mind, 

And the bright host doth softly melt away, 
Till gazing round alone we inly deem 
There were no fields to win, — 'twas but a 
troubling dream. 



XLII. 

The prattle of our children, — the hoarse hum 
Of thousand voices pitched in tones of 

trade, — 
Men hurrying to and fro, — the cries that 

come 
From factions, — and book-whisperings that 

persuade 
Glory a myth, and all our thoughts degrade, 
Till genius' self seems cold, and life grows 

tame, — 



The Mirror of a Mmd, 93 

That bustle which to live must still be 

made, — 
Shut from our ears the enchanted flute of 

Fame, 
Which though it be unheard, still warbles 

on the same. 



XLIII. 

Few find on earth the boon which they 

would seek. 
Yet know they drink from a polluted spring ; 
A blush in secret burns the brazen cheek ; 
They feel that something to which poets 

sing, 
Which fain would soar, but in them hath 

no wing, 



94 ^>^^ Mh'ror of a Mijid, 

To mount that ether which the bravest 

awes ; 
And years thus pass unheeded, and yet 

bring 
New pains for which they dread to know 

the cause, 
But wear a sculptured smile, and for spears 

brandish straws. 



XLIV. 

Within youth's grasp man's noblest aims are 

laid. 
But middle age beholds them far, nor pines; 
Till noon through seas of golden beams we 

wade, 



The Mirror of a Mind, 95 

Which climb the mountains as our sun 

decHnes ; 
Until this spirit-lustre only shines 
Upon the ever varying clouds, which skim 
Far, far above ; reflected memory twines 
Fantastic wreaths on our horizon's rim — 
We gaze, and gaze, until all earth and heaven 

Q-row dim. 



XLV. 

Hues of the even, sombre yet serene ! 
Shades from the coming night thrown o'er 

the soul! 
Shadows, which foil the hands that fain 

would glean 



96 The Mirror of a Mind. 

From our reaped fields but one more straw 

of toll! 
Dim forms, who can behold ye, and control 
One cry for Time to check his mad career, 
Prizing too late the oft neglected goal ? 
Who loves the coming as the parting year? 
We curse our endless toil, yet pine when 

rest is near. 



XLVI. 

Our hours are post-boys, who throughout the 

day 
Have loitered listlessly against our will ; 
But as they near their goal, and shadows 

gray 



The Mirror of a Mind, 97 

Gather around, dash onward through the 

chill : 
Or should I say that hopes and loves are 

still 
The foaming steeds which drag our lagging 

wain 
To the bright top of life's most stubborn 

hill? 
But there they are unharnessed all by Pain — 
The car runs down alone, and ever speed 

doth gain. 



XLVII. 

Smiles, angels of the lip, are seen no more ; 
The vestal of the eyes hath fled away. 



98 The Mirror of a Mind. 

Where are the souls that seemed to live 

before 
In every leaf, each cloud, each heavenly ray ? 
Leaves stir, clouds float, as brightly dawns the 

day. 
As fair on sleeping waters sleeps the star — 
The children of the heart, oh ! where are 

they ? 
Where dreams at noonday dwell, a country 

far, 
Where sage and sober thoughts at wild weird 

midnight are. 



XLVIII. 

Stillness condensed and gathered into form ! 
Behold it there! the pallid corpse-like snow — 



17ie Adirror of a Mind, 99 

Who can believe it came upon the storm, 
Or e'er had motion, as it sleeps there now, 
A spirit-marble covering all below ? 
And yet the sprite upon the w^hirlwind 

climbs. 
And while the crowded clouds in masses go. 
Flings great white serpents o'er their ragged 

brims. 
Which lie all motionless along the crooked 

limbs. 

XLIX. 

A winter's eve : there is no cloud to dim 
The horizon's feeble pink, so coldly clear, — 
A great blue goblet with a rosy rim, 
Turned downward o'er the earth, the skies 
appear ; 



lOO The Mirror of a Mind. 

Dead weeds and grasses, withered, brown 

and sere, 
Lift o'er the snow their seedless tufts and 

Hmbs ; 
No Hving sound invades the silence drear; 
The wind with printless feet the snow-drift 

skims, 
Wrapped in his viewless cloak, singing his 

pilgrim hymns. 



The night is clear and moonless ; the stars 

gleam 
Peopling the void. — Oh, dwellers of the sky! 
Lost in your own existence do ye seem. 
For ye are rapture ! and your forms on high 



The Mirror of a Mind, loi 

Shine with an inborn splendor ; silently 
Looking a sacred language from afar, 
Whose words are feelings ; vainly man would 

try 
To grasp their fullest meaning — boundless 

are 
Our senses and our thoughts, — beyond them 

glows the star ! 



LI. 



There is a silence in the ocean's roar, 
A hush within the moaning of the wind, 
And in the crash of cataracts which pour 
From mountain heights, a quiet to the mind- 
A thunder with the stillness is combined 



I02' The Mhi^or of a Mind. 

Which wraps the stars ! With day that nature 
dies 

Which makes man mortal ; starHght is en- 
twined 

With our soul's life — our awe-struck soul, 
that tries 

To drink serenity, whose fount is in the skies. 



LII. 



The snow is nested high in the forked limbs, 
And there alights the dawn's first feeble ray; 
The eastern line a second evening climbs ; 
White swan-like clouds that westward wing 

their way. 
In serried flocks towards the close of day, 



The Mirror of a Mind, Tu 



o 



Now eastward slowly move, and on their 



wings 



Some golden glances glitter: Morning gray, 
O'er stiffened meads, and bristling trees, and 

springs 
All voiceless, hard and dry, his pallid lustre 

flings. 



LIIL 



But wintry objects check my outward eye ; 

The ao-orressive cold doth seem to drive 
within 

All thoughts, as men shrink back instinct- 
ively 

From those more self-wrapt than themselves, 
and in 



I04 The Mirror of a Mind, 

Reserve their masters: but all those who 

win 
No bays to-day, think straightway how before 
They gained a crown — thus memories now 

begin 
To rise. — Hark ! for my mind hath heard a 

roar — 
Once more, oh, ocean! do I stand upon thy 

shore. 



LIV. 

Like hair plucked by thy wild remorseless 

hands 
From the dread things in thy dread custody, 
The fibrous sea-weed strews the yielding 

sands ; 



The Mirror of a Mind, 105 

Like great, white, frightened birds which 

seek to fly, 
And spread their snowy pinions toward the 

sky,— 
Then settle down again, — the phoenix foam 
Flies up along the coast; whose girdle high 
Around thy giant limbs doth circling come — 
Own, 'tis a rope of sand which checks thy 

will to roam! 



LV. 



Oh, Sea! the waves thy cymbals ever beat. 
With ceaseless clang, monotonously slow, 
Melodious measures which eternal feet 
Alone could follow; while the billows flow, 
The winds across them wander, and oft blow 



io6 The Mirror of a Mind. 

Their fifes and trumpets ; but as slowly sink 
The evening shades, thy features sharper 

grow, 
And wear a deadly look from which all 

shrink — 
Wild voices seem to talk, laugh, whisper 

round thy brink. 



LVI. 

We go, return, depart, return again, 

But Thought still sits beside the sounding 

shore. 
Far from the haunts of hollow-minded men ; 
Infinity's wild voice is ocean's roar! 
Hark to the billows' shout as on they pour! 



The Mirror of a Mind. 107 

Each hath a tongue that speaks in accents 

clear 
The secret of the world, the unwritten lore; 
All that we know of life waves image 

here, — 
They ebb but to return, break but to 

reappear. 



LVII. 

And thus new waves of life forever rolling, 
Forever break upon death's ice-bound coast; 
Each waving hare-bell its own knell is 

tolling, 
Yet not a leaf or petal e'er is lost: 
The fairest flower felled by early frost, 
The noblest soul cut down before its prime, 



io8 The Mirror of a Mind, 

But fade away that a more lovely host 
Forth from their ashes into life may climb, 
The same with full-blown strength, in beauty 
more sublime. 

LVIII. 

The breath which filled my humble reed is 

spent — 
The night is come in which no man may 

work — 
The staff is broke on which my spirit 

leant — 
The thoughts which in my inmost being 

lurk 
Are speechless: From the all-surrounding 

murk 
Two forms alone arise. Fate and Decay; 



Th^ Mirror of a Mind. 109 

The last I know full well and would not 

shirk, — 
The -other's face is sternly turned away, 
To quench my mind with doubt, and quell 

me with dismay. 



LIX. 

What I have felt shall others ever feel ? 
What I have sown with toil shall I e'er 

reap ? 
Shall my voice ring afar with echoing peal. 
Or shall I be as those who in their sleep 
Deem they have cried aloud, while their lips 

keep 
Unbroken stillness? 'Twere in vain to try 
To wring from out the inexorable deep 



no The Min^or of a Mind. 

Aught that the yearning mind may satisfy- 
refn 
eye. 



Yet refuge still remains to fix the wandering 



LX. 



The true tragedian for one only plays, 
One eaQ:er face which he beholds below, 
Upturned to his with an enraptured gaze. 
Seizing his very thoughts ere words may 

flow, 
And ^ainino; on his utterance; even so, 
If from earth's millions one ear drink my 

strain, 
If in one heart I may awake a glow. 
Or for one bosom win surcease of pain. 



The Mirror of a Mind. 1 1 1 

Let Darkness dye his frown ! my toil is not 
in vain. 



LXI. 

Perchance this lay I shall once more resmiie ; 
The future thoughts that now I cannot see, 
Which stand arrayed between me and the 

tomb, 
May seek to live in music ; tremblingly 
I still would hope that I may yet, more free, 
With higher heart, less soulless scenes 

among, 
Play as I journey onward — it may be — 
I know not — But my thoughts have found a 

tongue ! 



112 The Mirror of a Mind, 

Though soon my soul grow old, still here 
'tis ever young. 



LXII. 

But still I feel a shrinking and a doubt — 
Long have I striven — ah ! perhaps in vain ; 
My Hope sinks low, a breath might blow it 

out ; 
More frequent grow despondency and pain ; 
My soul seems launched upon a shoreless 

main : — 
What rose unwatered still blooms on the 

same? 
What captive sinks not 'neath a life-long 

chain ? 
What lamp unfed can yet preserve its flame? 



The Mirror of a Mind, 113 

What heart still float aloft without the breath 
of Fame ? 



LXIII. 

We live in gloomy days, 'neath sombre skies, 
Which pour down ever sleet, and snow, and 

hail ; 
And vapors dark and dank around us rise, 
Breeding dull slugs and cold worms, that 

assail 
The flowers which strive with loveliness to 

veil 
The bare, black, lifeless mould of earth in 

vain ; 
But should these loathely things of slime 

prevail, 



1 1 4 The Mirror of a Mind. 

To blight the ambitious nurslings of my 

brain, — 
Still there are springs of joy which man can 

never stain. 



LXIV. 

A spiders web with starlight dew besprink- 
led— 
A wave which the uprising moon hath lit — 
An autumn leaf ere time his cheek hath 

wrinkled — 
The unbought smiles of infancy that flit 
Unquestioned by — a few bright pages writ 
By slumbering hands — such straws to planks 

may grow, 
Clutched by the gasping mind, sustaining it 



The Mh^ror of a Mind. 115 

To stem the waters of disgust and woe, 
Which rise with batthng tides, to whelm us 
in their flow. 



LXV. 

The sparkles of the ocean as they fall — 
Translucent tongues that dwell within the 

winds — 
The voices of the locust hours that crawl. 
With blast athwart the gardens of men's 

minds — 
The slow drao; of the anchor that ill binds 
Forever drifting Change — the strange impress 
Of past on present, and the voice that finds 
Its way from out the void, — their mysteries 



1 1 6 The Mirror of a Mind. 

Infuse into my soul, and bid her mock 
distress. 



LXVI. 

I feel as I had reached the ocean's shore, 
And found all silence there ! the jostling 

band 
Of my own thoughts has hastened on before, 
And left me here alone ; my song doth stand 
And beckon to its echo, which had planned 
A swift and loud return ; but now is blown 
Into the Future's still-retreating land ; 
Where it may ever wander up and down. 
Nor e'er return till I can catch no earthly 

tone. 





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